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[ladyjafar]

Prologue – Summer of 2008, Istanbul, Turkey.

Ja’far never understood why he felt so pulled to Suleiman's Mosque. Ever since he was a little boy, every time he visited his grandmother, they always took a trip to the famous mosque built by the Ottoman Empire’s greatest sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent.

It was always the first and last thing he did, almost like he was saying hello and then goodbye to a place he had known before. But neither he or his parents had an explanation for it. Ja’far always got depressed leaving Istanbul, whenever the plane flew over the place he loved the most in the city besides his grandparent’s historical home in the heart of the bustling, ancient city quarter near the Topkapi Palace.

Every other summer – or when he decided – he always came to visit Nilüfer and his grandfather, who was also named Sulieman. He always loved being picked up by either of them, and carried around and hugged as a small child.

Years had passed since his parent’s death, and he was thirteen years old. At six, he had lost them both to a tragic fire that killed them both when he was visiting his grandparents in the summer. As a result, he was devastated.

Since they didn’t want to separate him from the country he grew up in, they allowed Hinahoho and Rurumu – very dear friends of Ibrahim and Sorcha – to adopt their grandson. Ja’far wasn’t unhappy, but at the same time he missed his parents very much and always had them in his own thoughts.

It was the summer before freshman year of high school, and Ja’far had been raised up a level and skipped the eighth grade entirely. His teachers sang praises for his academic work, and he smiled just thinking about going home and starting school, and meeting new people. Mystras, of course, would be in the same grade since he was an eighth grader when he was in seventh grade, as would Hakuei and Drakon. But his other friends would stay behind in middle school, much to his pain.

It was a late summer’s day, and his grandmother had cooked a good dinner for them both, since Suleiman would be working a little later than usual. It was his favorite, fish straight from the Black Sea with some saffroned rice and cooked lentils. He munched down happily on it.

"Ja'far, from the moment you were born, I knew your fate was already decided, like it has been in lifetimes before."

Emerald green eyes looked up from his dinner, the young teen curious. "Grandma, what do you mean?"

At thirteen years old, Ja'far was the spitting image of his long deceased mother Sorcha, Nilüfer thought with a pained look. Sorcha was her daughter in law, and easily one of the most beautiful women that Nilüfer had ever seen. Her grandson, Ja'far, inherited those delicate Celtic features, her pale blond hair, and stunning green eyes that seem to look into a person's very soul. Since he was a child, he had seen more than the human eye could. Nilüfer was sure he had the gift of second sight, albeit untrained, unlike her own gift.

Sometimes it pained her. She knew her youngest son would die if he moved away from Turkey, but it was his fate, as it was Sorcha's. She could not prevent that.

And now, she knew her grandson would face misery in his life time, but this time, he could keep it from happening, and possibly live the happily ever after he hadn't gotten in his last lives.

"There will be a man who will change your world, Ja'far. You will know him on sight, for he has lived with you before in other times, in other places. Your fate has bound you to him, for at a time, you were both apart of the same flow of energy, and each time you meet, it either will end in chaos or happiness. Before this, you were never happy - but this time." her eyes had taken on an almost eerie glow, blue eyes turning into a bright shimmering silver.

Ja'far had paled. Other lives? Chaos? Pain?

"Grandma?" he said, tone fearful. Her eyes focused back on him.

"This time, you can keep the king of your heart from destroying himself and others. He is a dominant creature that has always been the adventurer, the paragon in his very soul. You must not hasten to weaken for him, for each time it has ended in his death and your sorrow. Become his anchor, and he shall not be quick to folly as he has been before. His rash behavior is because of you fighting your own fate. Do not fight it, flow with it."

And with this, she had fallen into a dead faint on the floor.

Ja’far panicked, and he got down to check her pulse. It was strong, and she was breathing normally again, but she was asleep.

“Ja’far? What happened?” he looked up to see his grandfather, worried but trying not to show it in front of his grandson.

“S-she had a vision, and fell into a swoon.” he was choking back tears, from being scared or relieved his grandfather was there, he wasn’t too sure.

He sighed with obvious relief. “She’ll be fine, my grandson.  Just needs some rest after she has her visions and you know it.” Suleiman picked his wife up – at sixty five years old she was still slim as a young woman, and still had a full head of deep, blue black hair.

“Eat the rest of your dinner, and I’ll join you. She’s left me something to eat as well, and you’ll tell me what she saw.”

Ja’far nodded numbly, not even sure he could eat the rest of his dinner.

King of your heart. Ja’far never revealed it, but he has had odd dreams where he was scurrying down a corridor, wearing robes that were far lighter than they looked.

And always, someone calling his name.  It was a masculine voice, one that sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it.

Or sometimes, the dreams were in a tropical forest where he was running after someone during the night, laughter on the wind, and when he reached for the person’s back, he would wake up, the elusive, heady scent of the forest around him even after awaking.

Was that the man that his grandmother talked about? His gaze fixed on the horizon, the sun sinking into the waters of the Sea of Marmara beyond the window. The sound of laughter, the city at night and the smells from other homes didn’t faze him in his thoughts.

Who was he? The person who haunted his dreams and sometimes his waking thoughts. His heart almost hurt thinking about it, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

“She’s tucked into bed.” the sound of Suleiman’s voice startled his grandson out of his thoughts, and he refocused his eyes on him when he came back into the room. He settled across from the far younger man, his own plate on the table. A small cup of coffee was in his hand, and he placed it in front of Ja’far with a small smile.

“Baba?” Ja’far said with a small voice, and it made Suleiman’s eyebrow quirk.

“You haven’t called me Baba since you were very young, my little lion. Are you alright?” he reached over and placed his hand on Ja’far’s forehead, feeling to see if he was sick. Ja’far smiled weakly, the warm hand a comfort to him when he was a little shaky.

“Grandma had a vision of my… my past lives.” Suleiman’s eyes widened just the tiniest bit, but he didn’t say anything, silently encouraging his grandson to talk.

“She mentioned a man that will change my life, that I’m bound to for eternity. I have to change his fate for him – since it seems in other lifetimes I fought against my own. Almost as if….” he put his hand to his face in thought.

“…. as if I was too weak to tell him no.”

Suleiman nodded. “Ja’far, are you aware of the idea of kismet?”

The younger man shook his head in the negative.

“Kismet means fate in the old language, in it’s simplest form. It comes from Arabic in its roots. My grandmother always told me, nothing happens for no reason. Your fate – your kismet – is written on your forehead. If you fought against it, it could cause problems in one life into the next one.”

He seemed surprised, but he stayed quiet. Suleiman seemed worried since Ja’far, normally pale, was almost as white as a sheet of paper. But he kept on going.

“Some souls are bound to others, as your grandmother told you. Some live many lives, even hundreds, but only remember a few. Your soul either can go onto the afterlife if what you have done is completed, but if you have unfinished business, you are reborn, and live another life trying to finish what you started. It seems, my darling grandson, you need to save someone – and save yourself – from heartache before you can truly move on.” he smiled.

“Many people would tell me I’m either insane or heretical, depending on if a person believes in science or religion. But my grandmother, my mother, and your grandmother have always held onto that belief. Even in ancient Ireland, where your mother’s parents descend from, have a belief that the soul recycles itself into another life. It’s not an unusual idea, and not a new one.”

“If – If I find this person, what will happen?”

“Who knows, my lion. Maybe you will fix everything, maybe you will fail. But try your hardest to fight to fix your own fate, no matter what the person you are bound to does. Guide him in the right direction – I have a feeling this time around he will listen to you if you try hard enough.”

“I don’t know his name, and he’s already turned my life upside down.” Ja’far put his head on his arms, grumbling. Suleiman laughed.

“That’s the grandson I know and love. Be stubborn as a bull, and it will turn out alright. I have a feeling whoever he is, he won’t be able to cause harm this time around. You have your mother’s stubborn nature, but your father’s quick mind. They’d both be proud of you, I know it.” Suleiman ruffled Ja’far’s already messy light blond hair, and the boy just pouted at him.

“Baba! My hair is already chaotic, I don’t need you adding to it!”

Suleiman let out a hearty laugh, and Ja’far couldn’t help but let his own silvery laughter follow it into the night.

Autumn 2011, Hillsboro, Oregon.

“I cannot believe we’re already at our junior year.” Hakuei Ren squealed. “Two more years to go, and I can ditch this place. I’ll miss Lady Scheherazade, and a few other teachers like Mr. Ugo, but that’s about it.” At sixteen years old, Hakuei was the star of the drama department, with her wonderful acting skills and beautiful singing voice. Her parents wanted her to pursue a business career, since it was the family business, but all she wanted to do was sing on Broadway. She wouldn’t tell her family that, however, and took business classes to satisfy them so they would allow her to continue taking drama and being in school plays.

She was one of Ja’far’s best friends next to Mystras Leoxses, one of the baseball team’s best pitcher and batter. He was one of the few jocks that talked to Ja’far like he wasn’t a freak, and they even dated in the past. Ja’far still had the letterman jacket Mystras gave him their sophomore year of high school.

And there was also Drakon and his girlfriend Saher. Both huge high fantasy nerds, they always had dungeons and dragons games in the cafeteria when they had their hour lunch. They formed a bit of a ragtag group with other “outcasts” and weirdos, including Hakuei’s girlfriend Serendine, who was a childhood friend of Drakon’s, and Mystras’ younger brother Spartos, who was just as gay as Ja’far was. There were others, but Ja’far didn’t talk to them much even though they were in the club he was president of.

Well. Ja’far was the founder of the schools first “lgbt” club, a place for those who knew – or were questioning – their identities, and could talk to someone in a safe space without the fear of being outed or made fun of. He realized at a young age he wasn’t what people considered normal, since he was mainly attracted to men and never conformed to the typical idea of what gender was.

At fifteen, Ja’far was an advanced placement student who was well on his way to being valedictorian of his class. Many thought it was because he was extremely smart. He was, he wouldn’t lie about it to please anyone. But he was also a hard worker that wanted to get into a good university to study archaeology. He was fascinated with the history of the world, and he more than wanted to work with people all over to find new things and learn more about the world.

“You’ve scooched by without getting your aunt Arba as a teacher, too.” Ja’far teased his friend. Arba wasn’t a very well liked teacher at the school, since she was super strict in all of her classes. She was a the only AP chemistry teacher besides Ugo, who was also an advanced math teacher and the opposite of Arba, very well liked by everyone. Even if he was a huge dork and had a hard time talking to female teachers. Arba also taught most lower science classes and calculus, but tended to favor her advanced placement students and had a hard time helping students who had issues with the complex matters understand them.

“I hope I never get her for calculus next year. Precalc with Setta will be easy.” Hakuei smiled.

“He’s great! I had him freshman year. I took honors math in seventh grade so when I skipped up that grade, they let me take precalc with him. I liked Mr. Ugo for calculus and advanced chemistry, he makes it fun. And when we went on a field trip to Portland State last year, his friend Professor Solomon – he hates being called his last name so he let us call him his first name, which was weird since that’s basically my grandfather’s name – almost blew the lab up. He and Mr. Ugo were blue for weeks.” Ja’far let out a laugh. Hakuei grinned.

“She never tells anyone why, but she doesn’t seem to like Mr. Ugo, or whenever he brings up Professor Solomon or his wife Sheba and their four month old kid. She gets this nasty look on her face like she’s eaten something rotten or whatever.” Mystras put in. He had the bad fate to end up with her for chemistry one his sophomore year.

“Mr. Ugo subbed for first period when she called in sick, because last year he didn’t have a class first thing in the morning. I think that was the first time I had fun in that class, honestly. He brought them up and when a student mentioned it the next day, she got super pissed and it ended up with the poor girl getting a detention for ‘talking out of turn’.” Mystrasl looked annoyed. “Old bat. She’s too sour for her own good.”

“I hope she never hears you say that, Mys.” Ja’far leaned onto his dearest friend with a smile. “She’d get you in trouble.”

“Psssh. She can’t do nothin’.” he smiled engagingly at Ja’far, and he couldn’t help but give a faint giggle, which did nothing but encourage the red-haired teen.

“Cutest sound in the world when you giggle. Can I get more out of you?” he wriggled his fingers, and Ja’far backed away warily.

“Mystras it’s almost time for lunch to be over, please don’t.” he was still laughing, more out of how silly Mystras looked, hands out, fingers wiggling around a little bit. He was taller than most in the group, and a little more muscled by virtue of his hobbies, but with the almost evil grin on his face, it made him look so ridiculous that Ja’far couldn’t help but double over and weaken with laughter.

The bell rang, and an almost mass exodus of students got up from the tables, groaning and grumbling about going back to class.

“SAVED BY THE BELL!” Ja’far picked his book bag up, his jacket and tea mug and dashed away, much to Mystras’ grumblings of “No fair!”

Ja’far’s next class was advanced placement Middle Eastern history, a new class that was put in this year. It was more or less a test class, and Ja’far was more than excited for it. It got the required minimum of 100 students enrolled in the class, and -

His train of thought was cut off the moment he stepped outside, and a football landed square in his chest, knocking the breath out of him, and to the ground where he hit his head. A shout and some yelling followed as he fell to the ground, on the verge of a black out. Darkness seemed to seep up into his line of vision, eyes dazed when he saw a teen lean over him in worry, profusely apologizing for hitting him with a ball.

What didn’t make him black out was the football, it was the person swimming in his darkening vision. Dark skin, bright gold eyes and purple hair.

“Sinbad.” the name slipped unbidden into his mind. He didn’t know the person who was currently rushing him to the nurses office, since Ja’far could hardly walk himself. Whoever he was, he was trying to keep him awake until he got there, with the fear of a concussion on his mind, he tried to force his eyes open.

“What’d you do to him, dude?” a familiar voice came to his ears – that kid, Tess? He was on the football team and was rather kind to everyone, even him. Once Tess even fought off some bullies that tried to hurt Ja’far when he was a freshman.

“I tossed the ball too far and it hit him in the chest, hard. He fell to the ground and hit his head, hard. I’m not even sure he’s awake.”

“I-I am.” Ja’far managed to force out. Golden eyes looked down to him and he smiled weakly.

“I’m sorry.” He was, thankfully, long legged so he made it to the nurses office in a short amount of time. Ja’far was almost clinging to the boy, and due to his disoriented state, which the nurse was distressed at.

“Ja’far, honey, let the poor guy go, you’re strangling him.” Falan, the school nurse, tried to pry Ja’far off of the taller teen and succeeded.

“What happened?” she felt Ja’far’s forehead, took his pulse and checked other signs. Falan was a registered nurse and had some pretty cool – and legit – equipment in the school’s health office. A blood pressure sleeve was on his upper arm at the moment, trying to register it.

“Well...” the older teen looked sheepish. “I threw a football too hard and it hit him in the chest and knocked him over.”

“It was… an accident...” Ja’far said weakly. “Head hurts.”

“Do you feel tired?” Falan, with Sinbad’s help, got Ja’far to sit up.

“Only a little.” strength was flowing back into his body, and the blackness was going away. Falan looked relieved.

“No concussion, at least from what I can tell. Can you stand?”

Ja’far swung his legs over the bed he had been placed on, and even though he felt a little off, it went away quickly.

“Your balance seems fine. No nausea? Fuzzy vision?”

“I did at first, but not anymore, just a headache.”

“Hmm. I’m going to send you home. I know.” she saw the protest in Ja’far’s eyes rising. “It’s only the first day of school and you want to stay and go to all of your classes. But missing the first day won’t hurt you any, Ja’far. Have Mr. Akhtar escort you to the office, Ja’far.”

The kid had to have a name other than that. “First name?” Ja’far said in a confused tone.

“Sinbad.” Falan laughed.

“Here, let me get your bag. Good lord, this is heavy! How does a skinny kid like you carry all this?”

Sinbad. His name was the one that was trapped in his mind, and suddenly, all those dreams, of hot and steamy nights, a forest overlooking a vast, turquoise colored sea and even feelings of his own heart breaking in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. The sound of someone’s voice calling his name, almost as if he was being summoned to somewhere beyond this time and place -

“Ja’far? Ja’far!” the boy waved his hand in front of his face. “We need to get you to the office. You’re lucky I have a free period and no class.” He tossed a winning smile at the nurse.

“R-right.” when he felt Sinbad’s hand on his elbow, in an effort to help him along, he almost jumped back with a yelp. It startled him. He couldn’t fathom why, but the words his grandmother told him so long ago came back to haunt him.

“There will be a man who will change your world, Ja'far. You will know him on sight, for he has lived with you before in other times, in other places. Your fate has bound you to him, for at a time, you were both apart of the same flow of energy, and each time you meet, it either will end in chaos or happiness.”

“Do not fight your fate.”

“You’re rather quiet.” his voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You seemed noisy in the cafeteria when I was there at the beginning of lunch.”

“I also got hit in the chest and knocked over.” He said with a touch of dry humor. “Are you in the habit of people watching then?”

Sinbad grinned. “That’s more like it. You’re feistier than you let on.”

That, for some reason, annoyed the shorter teen. “You barely know me.”

“Seems like I’ve known you forever if I can annoy you so easily.”

There it was, a simple statement with a complex meaning behind it. Confusion ran rampant in Ja’far’s head. Did he feel it too? Or was it an innocent statement taken out of context by him?

“Can your parents pick you up? If not, I could probably take you home. I only have two classes after this and I can blow ‘em off easily. Parents let me borrow the family car for school today instead of my normal ride.” Ja’far’s eyebrow quirked up.

“You so sure your parents would let you ditch school?” Ja’far’s comment was met with a laugh.

“I have two free periods then two last periods. One’s just gym and the other is just a business elective.” he shrugged.

“Ah, so you’re probably going to be in the same class as Hakuei.” Ja’far opened the office door, and asked if he could call his mother, Rurumu. One short phone conversation and she gave her permission for him to leave school.

“Can you come get me?” he asked her. There was a short sigh on the phone.

“Unfortunately I can’t, since I’m about to head into a meeting and your father is abroad right now. Is there a way you can get home or at least stay at the nurses office until I am able to?”

“Someone offered me a ride...”

“If its alright with the school, I would say take it. I’ll write a form later if need be for it, but I am pretty sure my word will work just as well.”

After having a conversation with the front office worker, Irene, Ja’far was released to go home.

“You’re stuck with me, then.” he grinned, overhearing the conversation. Ja’far rolled his eyes.

“I’m not sure I want you knowing my address.” Ja’far snipped with humor. Sinbad waved the semi-insult off.

“Nurse Falan would kill you if you stayed at school with a possible head injury. You need rest more than anything at the moment. C’mon, follow me. My car is parked in the student parking lot.”

The early September air was crisp with the coming cold, and when it hit Ja’far in the face he felt much better than he did before. Something about cold air helped his head clear much better than normal.

“You know for a family car that’s pretty nice looking.”

Sinbad opened the door to a sleek and shiny black car, placing Ja’far’s button covered backpack in the back of the car, and popping open the front passenger side for Ja’far to sit in. It wasn’t unusual for someone to have a car like this, since his own family had a car just as nice, but to let a kid drive it?

“Yeah yeah, Mom doesn’t like minivans and we’re a one kid family, so what’s the point?” he shrugged. “Normally I have a motorcycle, have since last June, but Mom insisted I drive something ‘nice’ to school, just in case I would get anything I can’t pack in a saddle bag.” he crinkled his nose, and Ja’far almost laughed.

“Mothers are always worrying over their kids. Can’t say I blame her.” He had settled into the seat comfortably, eyes closing a little bit.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now.” Sinbad smiled. “I need to know how to get you home.”

“I live in Dawson's Creek. You know where the Costco is? Here, let me put my address into the GPS here.”

“Ah yeah, that’s near the Intel campus my mom works on, the one that’s around Kohl’s?”

“Your mom works at Intel? What does she do? Mine does, but she’s a business manager for the company.”

“Mom’s a computer geek. She knows how to build them and is an engineer, probably knows more math than all of our teachers combined. I can’t say too much, its a secret you know?” he grinned. “Dad is too but he works on a different campus in Portland. They both don’t get home until late, so I’m generally by myself most of the time. Not that I mind. They’re good parents and trying to do their best.” Sinbad flushed realizing he talked a little too much.

Interesting. With his looks and how suave he seemed, Ja’far figured he was the bad boy type.

“Sorry about that.” he muttered. Sinbad felt strange, almost as if he’d known this person for a while, but he had only met him twenty minutes before. Was something wrong with him? Maybe it was because he was always a little weak for a pretty face, and he had to admit, Ja’far was very pretty, with delicate features almost like a girl’s.

That made his face feel warm.

“Oh it’s fine. Mystras always tells me I’m someone that people talk to, even if they don’t know me very well. I’m the elected mom friend of the group.”

A sheepish grin formed on Sinbad’s face. “Thanks. I have a feeling we’ll get along well. Ah, you’re not all that far away are you?” Ja’far had barely noticed they had left the school grounds and were near the house he lived in with his large adopted family.

“Anyone home? I know your parents aren’t but any siblings?” Sinbad asked when he stopped the car in front of the sprawling home. Ja’far shook his head.

“My siblings are all at school. Elementary or middle school, so they might be off soon.”

“Ahhh you’re the eldest sibling. Tough job. How many?”

“You’re awfully curious for someone I just met.” Ja’far laughed, wagging his finger at him.

“What can I say, it’s not every day I nearly knock someone out with a ball and take them home. Normally there’s a date somewhere in between.” he smirked when he saw a bright red flush show up on Ja’far’s pale skin.

Breathe, damn it! He internally thought. He felt a little funny inside, like he’s seen that somewhere before.

“I rendered you speechless, mission accomplished.” The banter left his lips easily, mischievousness shimmering in his bright gold eyes.

“You expect a reward for that?” his eyebrow went up.

“Hmm maybe?”

“I’m in danger when I’m around you.” he opened the door, pulling his bag from the bag in a fluid motion.

“Can I ask one thing?” Sinbad’s hand shot out to wrap around Ja’far’s wrist, keeping him there for a bit.

“And what’s that?” Ja’far was sure if he made any jerking motion, his wrist would probably snap, his grip was so strong.

Why did he feel butterflies in his stomach? And why wasn’t this alarming?

Almost as if it’s a game they have played before.

“Will you give me your number? So I can check up on you later.”

“Riiiight. Well you’re in luck, I actually have a phone, unlike half the people at our school. Hand me your phone.”

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.” Sinbad was surprised. Ja’far rolled his eyes, happy to have his hand back so he could enter in the information into the other’s smart phone.

“You’re the new kid, right? I remember overhearing from the principle early this morning we’d get someone in from L.A, and I’ve never seen you around before. I’ve attended Liberty since my freshman year. You’ll need someone to help you get around.”

“Great excuse. Huh, that’s an interesting last name.” When Ja’far handed his phone back, he had put “Aga” in the last name slot.

“My biological father was Turkish. That’s why my first name is so out of place with how I look.” his brilliant green eyes twinkled.

“Explains a lot.” he was curious about more, but he’d hold his tongue. “I’ll text you first. And see you at school tomorrow.”

Ja’far flashed him a smile, and fled into the house, heart still flying at a million miles an hour.

Ja’far placed his book bag on the wooden floor, and he sagged against the door, and his vision scanned what he could of the house.

He wasn’t surprised to see it empty. It was one pm on a Monday afternoon. His dad was abroad on a business trip to Norway, mom was at work and plethora of siblings at school…

Though he had to admit it was very lonely. Especially since he was gone -

Wait, that was a ridiculous thought, feeling? In his head. How could he miss someone he barely knew? But he admitted everything felt cold. The cab of that car felt warm, a cozy feeling of familiarity and the banter that went between them made him feel like they were old and very good friends.

Or lovers.

Ja’far shook his head of the notion, his cheeks extremely hot, the rosy blush staining his pale skin a brilliant shade of red. He’d call his grandmother later when he had the chance to, maybe to talk about it. In the last two years, he had shared every dream and every scrap of weird memories with her, and she understood what was going on scared her grandson a little.

He wondered…. Would he have another dream that night? They weren’t all the same. Some of them contained mysterious places with strange creatures, the feeling of cold steel in his hands, the laughter of others, and a warm feeling of companionship, or a terror he couldn’t explain, like something precious had been torn from him and he wouldn’t ever get it back.

The teen scrambled up the stairs, not in the least startled to feel his phone vibrate ten minutes after he sat down at his desk, with a message from a 714 number.

Miss me?

Ja’far huffed. What a cocky little shit.

How can I miss someone I barely know? He typed back furiously. It didn’t help that it was true. Not like he’d ever own up to it.

You should be keeping your eyes on the road if you’re still driving, anyways, not texting me like an idiot.

There! He’d leave him alone for a bit if he told him that, right?

You’re in luck, freckles, I’m just sitting at home ~ Thinking about you.

He was arrogant!

Why didn’t you just go back to school? They might be looking for you if you don’t go back?

Not one minute later, he felt his phone go off again, with a message from not just Sinbad, but it was a call from his mother.

“You doing okay? Still at school? I got out of my meeting.” her voice came over the line, and it soothed his frazzled nerves.

“No Mom, I’m home. A new friend drove me back. No one else could so he was more than okay with it.”

“Him? New friend? Oh was he cute? What’s his name?” the slew of questions came fast, and Ja’far couldn’t help but let a chuckle out.

“His name is Sinbad. Don’t tell him he’s cute, it might blow up his ego even more.”

“Sinbad? Did you manage to catch his last name?” there was a catch to Rurumu’s voice.

“It was…  Akhtar? I hope I said that correctly, I heard it earlier but I think I messed it up.”

“Oh! He’s the son of one of our new workers, Esra! I got to meet her today and she’s a lovely woman. Sinbad’s hers and her husband’s only son.”

“Mom that name is like one in a million -” he was a little bemused by the whole situation. It felt like something was almost pushing them together, much to Ja’far’s annoyance.

“You sound flustered over the phone. You tired or fighting against liking him so much on the first day of meeting him?” on the other side of the line she grinned at the indignant squeaking that came from her son.

“MOM!”

“Oh fine, fine honey. I’ll stop teasing you – over the phone at least. I’ll be home a little early today, so we can all go out to dinner at Sherri’s. I love you.”

“Love you too Mom, see you when you get home.” he huffed.

The message that greeted him when he looked at the screen didn’t help at all. It completely disregarded his previous message.

Hey! Feel like carpooling tomorrow?

Mistake number one was about to be made.

Sure, it makes sure you get to school on time!

He could almost feel the smirk in the reply he got.

Aw! Freckles you do care~ It’s a date!

“It’s not!” Ja’far exploded, completely fuming. Normally calm, cool and poised, he was alarmed by all the reactions this one person got out of him.

He needed to calm down, so he decided to read. After looking over his bookcase, Ja’far pulled out an old, worn book, and buried his face in it. He had no homework that day, since it was the first day of the year.

It was something that was saved from the fire that consumed his old home, and it was leather bound with scorch marks all over it, and extremely thick. There was no title, and the pages were yellowed with time and use – stains here and there as well, but over all well loved.

The older pages were written in a language never used in this day and age, old Ottoman Turkish. Those dated back to supposedly the late 1600’s. It progressed to modern Turkish around 1928, and he could read both easily.

It was worn with years of use, some of the words almost rubbed out due to the years. But still legible.

Ja’far had no idea how old it was, but it held a lot of things, from recipes, magic spells to forms of fortune telling. Generations of women in his father’s family added to it lovingly over the years.

He was glad it survived the fire, since it was a precious family heirloom. Since Ja’far had no biological aunts, his older uncles had no female offspring and their wives didn’t want it, Ibrahim had gained the tome of old family knowledge, and now Ja’far had it. He hadn’t added a thing to it yet, but he had ideas he kept in a notebook to add one day.

Ja’far didn’t realize how much time had gone by until he heard the door slam and the various sounds of his siblings and Rurumu chattering downstairs. At some point he had turned on the lamp next to his bed, and was reading by its light.

“Hey honey, feeling okay?” Rurumu popped her head in. “Does your head hurt still? And are you up to going out?”

“Yeah, probably.” Ja’far looked up from his book. “’s not pie night, though, so why Sherri’s?” Sherri’s was a restaurant their family tended to favor.

“First day of school is a good day to go out and eat! And I don’t feel like cleaning up after you all.”

“Sounds like a plan.” placing the old tome down on the bed, he swung his legs over to get up and stretch.

“Meet me down stairs, we’re all headed out in the minivan!” with a smile, she walked down the hall to the stairs.

[ladyjafar]